The foothills of the Wasatch Mountains, before we came along and prettied them up with our subdivision

We put a house right down in the middle of all that. There wasn’t a fence, and there weren’t any immediate neighbors, except for the one house on the west side. At the property line, the grass just ended, and the adventure began. All that empty mountain expanse was crawling with displaced nature, and we were there to master it. While Davis and Braden (the two with the grandiose, competing visions of themselves as masters of the wild domain) had their seasonal turf wars and power struggles, I was just out running up the hills and pulling down dead trees and digging up snake holes. Sometimes I’d come back and there’d be a new king, but the frequent political upheavals never seemed to have much impact on daily forest living.

Whenever he took a break from fending off the usurpations of younger brothers, Braden showed a knack for tracking down and making use of the local wildlife. Not in the way a hunter would. More in the way a slightly malevolent wizard would. Like the time when he showed me, to my utter amazement, how to hypnotize an army of grasshoppers. Grasshoppers were by far the most common creatures to be found in our area. In the dusty summer months, you couldn’t walk through the crisp fields without dislodging hundreds of crackling dry grasshoppers in all directions. They could jump huge distances, and were tough to hold on to. Unless they were hypnotized.

Braden and I would capture twenty or so of these, and then he would render them to his hypnotic water chamber. It was a large plastic bowl with a few holes poked in it. He would then fill the chamber half-full with water, put a lid on it, and shake it violently for a few minutes, until most of the water had leaked out. When you have shaken several handfuls of grasshoppers in a bowl full of water for a few minutes, you can take the lid off and they won’t hop away. They just sort of stumble around for a while. Because they’re hypnotized. It was all very wizardly.

When you wake up, I want you to bark like a dog whenever I say ‘Margaritaville!’

A kid who’s aiming for the ‘Dark Warlock’ aesthetic needs the right kinds of animal companions. Braden wasn’t interested in the frequent rabbit sightings or deer tracks that fascinated the rest of us. He favored things like ferrets, and salamanders, and had a few of each. He told me about this kid who could lift up a grate somewhere and pull out salamanders on demand, which could be brought to reside in Braden’s swampy window-well, presumably to add to the macabre aura of his lair. I’m not kidding– Braden had a salamander guy. No one ever thinks about it, but half of wizarding is getting your supply lines in place.

I think it was this taste for the slightly off-beat that led Braden to first bring home a snake—another of the common creatures in the area. The one I remember best was bigger than the usual garters and blow snakes we’d see. He had it wrapped over his shoulders like a stole, the better to show it off to the nervous neighborhood kids. They were gathered under the big tree in the back yard when I came out to see his new pet. He handed the snake to me, his most trusted minion, and it promptly bit me on the forehead. Although it didn’t break the skin, it was quite odd, since blow snakes usually don’t bite you.

A very faithful recreation of the incident

I took it again, a few minutes later. This time it broke the skin—sinking its fangs hard into the flesh of my forefinger. I handed the snake carefully back to Braden, and then ran crying into the house. My dad surprised me by being sincerely agitated. He examined the multiple punctures in my finger and wiped the drizzling blood away. After a minute of hesitancy, he took me over the laundry room sink and began sucking on my finger. Suck and spit. Suck and spit. He didn’t explain, and he didn’t have to. I knew the kids were still in the back yard playing with that snake, but I couldn’t distract him by telling him that. He was sucking venom out of my hand.

We went out later and examined Braden’s snake. Its tail had clearly been chopped off. Whether that meant we had a rattler disguised as a blow snake or just an abnormally aggressive blow snake, I’ll never know. Whatever it was, it liked the taste of my blood. My dad didn’t seem to enjoy that taste quite as much, but he took it like a man (though he rinsed his mouth out pretty well afterwards). Braden was forced to send his snake friend back into the wild, but that didn’t stop him from continuing to hold himself out as sort of the mystical neighborhood beastmaster.

My parents told him if he got his Eagle badge, they’d give him something nice. He told me secretly that he planned to ask for an aviary, or maybe a full menagerie. That’s why I was just as disappointed as they were when he never got it.

There are two kinds of people in this world: Those who are Navy SEALs or Delta Force, and those who . . . actually, there are three kinds of people in this world. Those who are Navy SEALs or Delta Force, those who could and should be Navy SEALs or Delta Force but mistakenly took another path, and then there are the rest of you who aren’t SEALs or Delta Force, nor were you meant to be, nor could you ever be. The vast majority of people in the world fall into the third group. For an example of a typical Group 3 person, please see here. Also here.  I view myself as being pretty much in the first (please see here), although I suppose you could make an argument that I’m in the second.

You can tell if you are in Group 1 by A. Inspecting your pecs, and B. Remembering if you have recently killed or are currently killing a few hundred AK-47-wielding bearded people in the Middle East with your bare hands. As to the second and third groups; here’s how to tell which one you belong to:

Remember a couple months ago when a SEAL team of snipers and divers took out the Somali pirates holding that American captain hostage? The snipers terminated them with shots to the head, dealing with the bouncing waves affecting the ship they were shooting from and the one they were shooting at, while a few of their teammates surreptitiously scuba dove (in shark infested waters, no less) and silently surfaced to storm the ship at the exact moment the snipers fired. Remember that? When you heard about that did you say to your wife “Wow, those guys are just incredible. I have no idea how they do what they do.” You’re in Group 3. Or did you flex your jaw and slowly nod your head a couple times before endorsing the mission with a “Ya, that’s about right. I probably would have had Sniper #2 a few feet to the south, but they basically followed protocol.” If so, you’re in Group 2.

Above is a little draw-up I created to help you non-military types visualize the pirate assassination

When you go to the zoo with your young child (if you are in Group 1 you refer to the child as an S.M.T.L.; Slow Moving Tactical Liability) do you relax, enjoy his company, and coo with him at the exotic animals? Or do you view each animal as a potential threat, constantly assessing what your plan will be when, for example, you hear the screams of human and non-human primates and realize an escaped 700 pound Siberian Tiger is bolting toward you at 35 mph? Are you sizing up improvised escape routes, objects to be adapted as weaponry, and obese or old people to use as diversions?

If you’re in Group 1, you and five of your unit members noted the potential threat from the Siberian Tiger months ago, rappelled into its cage from a Blackhawk, and neutralized it with a coat hanger and a throw pillow.  If you’re now thinking, “My goodness, I had never considered the possible danger at the zoo,” then I’m sure you’ll make a fine grief counselor or Pilates instructor and you can stop reading now, as the rest of this post has nothing to do with you. If you’re nodding your head as I describe the above scenario, then you, like me, are in Group 2 and are what I call a Citizen SEAL. Please read on.

Basically, the only difference between a Military SEAL and we Citizen SEALs is a few weeks of BUD/S Training (Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL). Also, the government buys all the weapons for one group but blindly refuses to buy them for the other, even after repeated letters to Congress.

Many people ask why we Citizen SEALs never become military ones. The question implies that we wanted to, which is ignorant and annoying.  Why didn’t you ever become super rich and marry a gorgeous woman?  Anyway, you should know that being a Citizen SEAL is better in some ways. For example, Military SEALs have all sorts of rigid R.O.E.s (Rules of Engagement) they have to observe. We know that some of these are useful and give them the steely discipline they—and we—are famous for. But some of these strictures hold them back unnecessarily. For example, the rule about any individual SEAL not having spontaneous authority over civilian police officers and magistrates in the U.S. You and I don’t have these restrictive shackles and can judge each situation as it occurs and act accordingly. Another example: it is not “permissible” to fire a Rocket Propelled Grenade into a crowd of foreign children who are taunting you. Citizen SEALs recognize that allowing someone to taunt you without forfeiting their life degrades the reputation of the entire SEAL family and puts all of us in danger.

Anyway, back to the question of why I never became a Military SEAL. For me it’s as simple as a bad rotator cuff and a misguided high school guidance counselor.

Guidance Counselor:  “Education this, education that.  My education was so valuable that it enabled me to become a high school guidance counselor. You should definitely follow in my footsteps, because I have this terrible job in which I am surrounded by people even more bereft of hope and cat-scented than myself.”

Citizen Seal Bell: “What about Delta Force as a career path, maggot? What about me learning to snap your doughy neck four different ways with my feet while defusing the bomb the Taliban stuck into your pocket? What about that career path?”

But that’s okay. I took a different route and I’m happy with it. Like, imagine if instead of becoming President, Barack Obama had become a tour bus guide, showing Germans and Asians around Chicago. He’d still be happy, just in a slightly different way.  Not in a better or worse way. Just different.

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]]> http://www.dontdodumbthings.com/2009/12/07/you-an-army-of-none/feed/ 20 http://www.dontdodumbthings.com/2009/12/04/just-the-animal-facts-maam/ http://www.dontdodumbthings.com/2009/12/04/just-the-animal-facts-maam/#comments Fri, 04 Dec 2009 12:00:26 +0000 Davis http://www.dontdodumbthings.com/?p=323

Whether you’ve ever stopped to think about it or not, I’m guessing you have a few different informal email distribution lists for sending information of a certain nature to certain groups of people.  For example, I send finance-related things to my friends Chris, Ryan, and Colby.  I send things regarding pop culture to my wife, Melissa, and our friend Ali.  I send anything about being judgmental and emotionally unavailable to Ryan.  And so on.

But the distribution list I use most frequently is my “Anything Relating to Animals, with a Special Focus on Sharks and Shark Attacks List,” which consists of Christian and my friend Craig.  While the stories and links the three of us send to each other are of little or no interest to most people (ignorant people who don’t know what’s good for them), we find them endlessly fascinating.  In fact, there are few emails I look forward to reading as much as these ones from Craig or Christian.  I did a little search in my email, and found a representative few that you may (or most likely, may not) want to check out:

Bears in a German Zoo Suffer from Baldness

An Amazing Slide Show of the World’s Ugliest Animals, from Craig (which includes the picture of the Aye Aye that you saw before you clicked on this post and the below picture of the Naked Mole Rat)

A Bear Kills Two High-Ranking Militants in Kashmir (Craig’s reaction:  “This is how we’re going to kill Osama.”)

A Shark Bites Another Shark in Half

That’s just a small sampling of the great, great stuff we send to each other.  Now, a few days ago Christian posted a link on our sidebar entitled “Important Animal Facts.”  It goes without saying that I clicked on that link.  Of course I did.  If you were plotting to kill me, you could just put a big black bomb like you see in cartoons on my doorstep with a note that says, “Light this if you want to hear some awesome animal facts.”  The website I found by clicking Christian’s link is – and I’m not exaggerating – a national treasure.  I encourage you to go visit it here.

Now, the aesthetics of the site instantly raised doubts in my mind as to the legitimacy of the animal facts found there.  I’m actually kind of surprised by the extent to which a website’s appearance influences my reaction to the site’s content.  “Hmm.  This website sells a pill that it can cure baldness and obesity and causes small, woman-like hands to develop into the powerful bear paws one would expect from a man who measures over 6’2 and weighs slightly more than 180 lbs.  I note with interest that your headquarters are in Nigeria, and that you’re asking for my credit card information but not my address, which presumably you would need in order to deliver the pills.  BUT.  Your website is well-designed and official-looking.  (Takes credit card out of wallet with small, woman-like hands.)”

However, my skepticism regarding the veracity of the animal facts found on this site was partially relieved when I read the third fact down from the top:

“The fingerprints of koala bears are virtually indistinguishable from those of humans, so much so that they could be confused at a crime scene.”

Detective (ducking under yellow crime scene tape):  “What do we have?”

Uniformed Officer:  “Double homicide.  Forced entry.”

Detective:  “Any fingerprints?”

Uniformed Officer:  “Yeah, plenty.”

Detective:  “Human or koala?”

Uniformed Officer:  “That’s not fair, sir.”

Detective:  “You’re right.  I’m sorry.  We’ll just have to wait for results from the lab.”

Any lingering doubts I had about these animal facts were definitively put to rest when I saw that some of them are sourced.  And by sourced I mean they are followed by the name and email address of the person who presumably sent the fact in.  These facts come from the leading lights of the zoological community, including Lauren, Jason, Hilary Smith, and MangoPete.

Although I accept as truth all of the facts found on this page, I thought it might be nice to have official confirmation from some of the authorities who sent them in, so I emailed each and every one of them.  Here’s an example of what I sent:

Dear MangoPete,

I was perusing the Animal Facts found at http://www.jayp.net/trivia/animal01.htm and saw that your name and email address were given as the source for the following animal fact:

“A female ferret will die if it goes into heat and cannot find a mate.”

I’m writing to inquire as to how you came to know this particular fact; a brief reply would be most appreciated.

Best Regards,

Davis Bell

Surprisingly, I’ve yet to hear back from anyone.  I’m guessing everyone is away at the big Animal Facts conference at Cornell.  In the interest of spreading scientific knowledge, I’ve taken the liberty of copying over a few of my very favorite facts from this website (in blue), with a few of my comments below them.  Please remember:  I didn’t make these up; they’re all copied verbatim from the aforementioned website:

“A duck’s quack doesn’t echo, and no one knows why.”

The scene:  The Animal Facts Conference at Cornell.  MangoPete:  “Does anyone know why a duck’s quack doesn’t echo?” Hilary Smith:  “No.” Lauren:  “Nope.” Jason:  “Nuh uh.” MangoPete:  “Nobody knows? Ok, nobody knows.”

“The closest relative to the manatee is the elephant. Scientists think the elephant crawled back into the sea to become a manatee. ”

Scientists believe this occurred in the following way: Elephant 1:  “You know, I really hate it up here.” Elephant 2:  “Yeah, me too.  Let’s crawl back into the sea and become manatees.” Elephant 1:  “Ok.”

“Cats can hear ultrasound.”

“Mr. Whiskers, come listen to my tummy.  One meow if it’s a girl, two if it’s a boy.”

“The province of Alberta in Canada has been completely free of rats since 1905.”

“Welcome to Alberta: Mostly free of rats since 1886, completely free since 1905!

“Cat’s urine glows under a blacklight.”

“Mr. Whiskers, if it’s a boy, spell “B-O-Y” in urine on the floor, and I’ll go get my blacklight.”

“Studies show that if a cat falls off the seventh floor of a building it has about thirty percent less chance of surviving than a cat that falls off the twentieth floor. It supposedly takes about eight floors for the cat to realize what is occurring, relax, and correct itself. At about that height it hits maximum speed and when it hits the ground it’s rib cage absorbs most of the impact.”

Science compelled me to attempt to recreate this seminal study to verify its findings.  Here’s some footage.

“Carnivorous animals will not eat another animal that has been hit by a lightning strike.”

A lion tackles an antelope, and moves to clamp his jaws on the antelope’s windpipe. Antelope:  “Wait!  Wait!  I’ve been struck by lightning!” Lion (narrowing eyes):  “Seriously?” Antelope:  “I’m not kidding, man, I promise.  I got struck by lighting about, I don’t know, 6 months ago.” Lion:  “Ewwwwwwwww.  Get out of here.”

“Rabbits love licorice. ”

Everyone loves licorice, so it stands to reason that rabbits do.  It’s called Occam’s razor.  Look it up.

“Spider Monkies like banana daquiries.”

Bartender:  “What’ll it be?” Spider Monkey (rolls eyes):  “What do you think?”

“It was discovered on a space mission that a frog can throw up.”

Astronaut:  “Mission control, you are not going to believe this, but you know that frog we brought up with us?  It just threw up!!!!” Mission Control:  (Two men in short-sleeved white shirts with buzz cuts high five each other).

“If NASA sent birds into space they would soon die, they need gravity to swallow. ”

NASA Engineer #1:  “Johnson, there is literally only one thing that is preventing us from sending birds into space.  I’m not concerned about the extreme temperatures or the lack of oxygen and air pressure or the absence of any food or water.” Johnson:  “Yeah, we’ve had our best men on this for years.  No gravity, no swallowing.  If only we could reverse engineer the space-vomiting properties of the frog.”

“Orcas (killer whales) kill sharks by torpedoing up into the shark’s stomach from underneath, causing the shark to explode.”

I have no comment on this, other than that I believe in my heart that it’s true and that I won’t rest until I witness this phenomenon in person.

“A donkey will sink in quicksand but a mule won’t.”

This one is just common sense.

“Horses cannot vomit.”

Or at least we think they can’t.  We won’t know for sure until we get one into space.